


head in the clouds, but my gravity's centered

by ohmygodwhy



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Slow Dancing, alcohol metion, all this pjo is getting a little excessive idk if i should be worried or not, based on a tumblr prompt, spontaneously written in the early hours of the morning, they're older now don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygodwhy/pseuds/ohmygodwhy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But he’s relaxed today, he’s happy today. Sundays are lazy days, days for television and not bothering to get dressed; their (he loves it, loves that he can call it their own) little apartment is cozy and the curtains are open wide and it’s illuminating Nico’s hair- and dammit, Jason really is turning into a sap. He’s described Nico’s hair in the sunlight and now he owes Piper money."</p>
            </blockquote>





	head in the clouds, but my gravity's centered

**Author's Note:**

> i had way too much fun with this tbh

 

 

Getting tipsy at one o’ clock on a Sunday afternoon isn’t really how he thought he’d spend the day. Though, he’s done a lot of unplanned thing over the last few years of his life, and if he’s being honest, this is probably one of the better ones.

And besides, Nico is pretty cute when he’s sorta drunk, all smiles and gestures and this is probably the sort of person he was before all the demigod stuff happened, talkative and excitable and Jason isn’t sure exactly what he himself is like, but he can’t really keep his eyes off of the younger demigod. He thinks there’s maybe something in the oven, something that might burn if they don’t pay attention, but he can’t find it in himself to care when Nico is _right there_ and giving his sole attention to him, going off about someplace he visited when he was younger, and drifting between topics- something cool Hazel did the other day, this one monster he fought, something stupid Percy had said; he could talk for hours about Hazel or Reyna if he wanted to. And he’s waving his hands around in gestures so wide he’d almost hit Jason in the face a few times- not that he would’ve minded. And he’s pretty sure he’s smiling like an idiot but then again, Nico is too, and it’s the most he’s seen the kid relax in a long time- ever since skirmishes between camps had started up again and jobs from his father had come more and more, he’d been wearing himself down. Years and years later and he still has the need to do everything himself- that and taking the occasional class or two by popular demand, it’s amazing he’s still standing.

But he’s relaxed today, he’s happy today. Sundays are lazy days, days for television and not bothering to get dressed; their (he loves it, loves that he can call it their own) little apartment is cozy and the curtains are open wide and it’s illuminating Nico’s hair- and dammit, Jason really _is_ turning into a sap. He’s described Nico’s hair in the sunlight and now he owes Piper money.

And it’s right when two rolls around- he sees the clock ticking out of the corner of his eyes- when the room is filled with music that makes them pause: a slow, old-fashioned jazz tune, playing softly from the record turning on the old record player Nico insisted on buying when they stopped at a thrift store a year or two back. The son of Hades had an affinity for vintage items, see. Especially ones that reminded him of his home back in Italy. The way he’d eyed it so fondly, running his hand softly across the top of it, made Jason give in easily.

It wasn’t all that special of a song, probably one that you wouldn’t distinguish from a bunch of other ones. But it had come on in the car they borrowed on a quest in Connecticut on one of Nico’s favorite weird radio stations- Jason had gotten the melody stuck in his head for the rest of the day, playing faintly in the background even when he kissed Nico for the first time after he’d nearly gotten himself killed again. It was cheesy as _hell,_ but he sort of thought of it as _their_ song. He was pretty sure Nico felt the same. They’d never admit it though.

And Nico looks over at him with a small smile on his face, props his head up on his hand and asks, “D’ you know how to dance?”

And no, now that he thinks about it, Jason really does not know how to dance. It’s not really part of basic Roman training or anything. So he shrugs and Nico’s smile gets a little bit wider- and then he’s being pulled into the center of the room, away from the might-be-burning-soon food. He stumbles a little when they come to a stop, and Nico laughs.

The son of Hades spins around, looking up at him through a few loose strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

“Alright then, here,” he says, lifting his arms and putting them tentatively on both of Jason’s shoulders. He’s still at least half a foot shorter than the son of Jupiter; the top of his head barely reaches the bottom of his chin- perfect for settling comfortably together on the coach though. One of the better parts of height differences.

“And then you put your hands on my waist,” he mumbles next. Jason complies, grinning lazily.

“Since when were _you_ an expert on dancing?”

Nico shrugs, glancing down at Jason’s hands to see if they’re in the right place. “Learned when I was younger. Bianca always led though, since she was taller.”

“You’re telling me the scary son of Hades could dance this whole time? Holding out on me, huh?”

Nico looks back up, lips drawing up into a pout (the kid would never admit to it though), “Never had the chance until now.” He responds, “And I don’t dance with just anybody,”

And there’s that fluttery feeling in his chest that should’ve gone away after all this time.

“Okay, you step forward with your right foot,” Nico instructs, “And I step back with my left.”

Jason nods, looking down at his feet. And they fumble around for a while, stepping on each other’s feet and almost falling over a few times, even after the song ends and another one begins.

“You suck at this,” Nico laughs. And he’s not lying. Jason’s built for marching, not dancing, and even though the steps are relatively simple, it’s hard to turn and step and keep in rhythm at the same time.

But Nico’s a patient teacher, and Jason feels all warm and fuzzy inside whenever he laughs or smiles at him. The steps come easier, they fall into sync, and Jason can finally look up again instead of constantly staring at his feet. And gods, is he happy about that. Because Nico is _beaming_ at him, probably more proud of him than he was when he finally finished building the last shrine- a minor goddess of some obscure island- or won the capture the flag game where it was he and Nico against the rest of the camp. 

They’re pressed together, moving slowly, step by step by step; Nico’s hair smells really nice and he’s warm against his chest and he’s probably smiling like a fool but hey, he feels pretty damn good. Nico’s breath is soft and the music cuts softly through the silence and there’s a vague smell of something probably burning and yeah, this is definitely one of the better ones.

 

 

 


End file.
